


Say It

by writehanded



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, game of thrones
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15090431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writehanded/pseuds/writehanded
Summary: What should/would have happened between Jon and Sansa in 7.02 before Jon left Winterfell. / Angsty Jonsa because how else would you write them honestly? / Let me know what you think. / Rated M for possible later chapters / Enjoy x





	Say It

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hi, everyone! So I've had a draft of this fic written for a while and I figured I would post it (in a big Jonsa mood lately). Just as a heads up: I didn't really do much editing on this fic. Honestly, when I do editing I end up doubting my writing and deleting the entire thing. So this is basically a rough-ish draft, so be kind. Let me know what you think. Now, prepare for the angst!  
> (Also posted on FF.net under the same title)

“So, are you going to say it, or should I?” She was standing in his room, a composed face staring out the window.

When Jon saw her all he could do was fight the urge to touch her. He wanted to hold her as he did when she arrived at The Wall, the two of them in each other’s warm embrace, the world falling around them. Jon could still feel her against him, though it felt so long ago. Just like then, he wanted to tell her she wasn’t alone, she would never be alone again.

“Sansa-,” Jon said softly, he could see her stiffen when he spoke, she turned, locking eyes with him. Those eyes made him never want to leave Winterfell, never want to leave her.

“Say it, Jon.” Her voice was full of pain, she tried to keep herself together, but Jon could read her face as if it were a well known book. She tried to show the look she learned in Kings Landing, a masked composer, the look of a obedient lady. But Jon knew better. 

“Just say it.” Her voice cracked even though she was attempting to distance herself, to separate Jon from her emotions. Jon knew that feeling well. He found himself trying to separate the two more often than not nowadays. He could see hurt and betrayal and it made his stomach turn.

“Please Sansa, don’t do this,” Jon whispered. He was going to say goodbye, but the look in her eyes was his biggest fear, and what kept him away. Still he couldn’t leave without seeing her, without hearing her say Winterfell would be okay; that she would be okay. 

“Don’t do what?” She scoffed, “I’m not the one leaving. I’m not the one who’s abandoning Winterfell and it’s people. I’m not the one risking everything we’ve fought for!” Her voice was full of disgust, getting louder with each word, all composure forgotten. 

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Abandoning my people?” He matched her volume. It was his duty to serve and protect his house and people, he knew this. But he also knew saying goodbye to Sansa was harder than any of that. He didn’t want to say goodbye.

“You’re abandoning me!” she said, loudly back at him.

There was a long pause between them. There was a look of shock on both their faces. Jon could see instantly that she hadn’t intended to say those words out loud. But she had. Their eyes were locked for what seemed liked hours before Sansa finally broke their gaze, her face finally settling into composure again.

“Is that what you think? That I’m abandoning you?” He moved closer to her, but she backed away. His stomach turned for a second time. She had that effect on him, he always lost himself with Sansa. 

When it came to Sansa, for a moment, Jon put everyone and everything else aside. When it came to Sansa Jon was selfish. She was different. She challenged him and respected him and cared for him in ways he’d never experienced. Jon read and understood her every emotion as she did his. She could sense the dark, broken side of him that only those that are broken can sense, and she accepted him. But now it felt like that bond was breaking.

Sansa shook her head wildly, “Please, forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything,” she moved to leave, tears welling in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have come.”

She passed by him and before he could stop himself his hand was around her wrist. Sansa stopped and looked up at him. All Jon could do in that moment was pull Sansa close to him, as close as two bodies could be, kissing the top of her head and running his fingers through her hair. 

“I’ll come back to you, Sansa.” He whispered in her ear. “I’ll always come back to you.”

She pulled away and rested her hand on his cheek. Her voice was shaky and her eyes were full of tears when she whispered, “No one comes back, Jon.”

For a moment she looked so vulnerable, so raw, that Jon lost his breath. Sansa would never show this side of herself to anyone, except Jon. This was a side only for him. For a moment Jon lost himself in her face. Her teary blue eyes, the soft pink of her cheeks, the curve of her mouth. He could feel her warm hand against his face. He wanted to kiss her hand, kiss her mouth, kiss any part of her she would allow. This was his Sansa. The soft, vulnerable, beautiful Sansa. Yet within all her vulnerability there was a strong fire Jon couldn’t stay away from. He knew she wasn’t asking him to stay, she would never ask for something so selfish. And Gods know he wouldn’t be able to refuse her. 

“I’ve lost everyone, Jon. I’ve lost everyone, but I won’t lose you. I won’t...I can’t. Please, Jon-” 

His lips found hers before she could finish speaking. Her mouth tasted of lemon and tears and the sweetest taste Jon had ever known. He felt her mouth respond, her fingers found home in his curly hair as he deepened their kiss. He could stay forever in this moment. He poured everything he had ever felt for her in his kiss, and she responded, opening her mouth for him, tracing his tongue against hers. 

Sansa pulled away first, gasping for breath and Jon pressed his forehead against hers. He always knew their goodbye would lead to something like this. There was always something unspoken between them, something forbidden and fragile. He always knew he could never actually say goodbye to her. He feared losing her as much as she did him. 

“Please, say it, Jon," she whispered against his mouth. 

So Jon said what they both wanted to hear, “I love you, Sansa.”


End file.
